One Great Turning

The Hard Truth

2012-02-28T11:16:00.001-08:00

This was the thought that arrived on a cloudy Saturday morning while my family and I were still huddled in bed. This is the hard truth of motherhood - motherhood in migration.

I was of course being reflective of the events of the precious evening when Mandarin blatantly reminded me of my place

1. What was I even thinking bringing a toddler to a restaurant catering all-you-can-drink sake bombs to twenty-somethings who barely understand the meaning of pacing your drinks. This was irresponsible on my end; hunger, the lure of Japanese Shabu-Shabu, and admittedly just to be out with (pretty much) everyone got the best of me. Had I known it was as bad as it was going to be, I wouldn't have even considered taking her there.

2. When going to the said place, given a very late reservation of 9:00pm means you will be seated at 9:45 and start eating a little past 10:00.

3. Toddler bedtime + short afternoon nap + belligerent and drunken crowd noise = mommy and me meltdown. The best thing to do was to leave, mid-meal before the next round of paper thin slices of beef even had the chance to cook because my instinctive solution was to remove her from that environment.

While I can easily say that all mothers out there completely understand this scenario, the hard truth that immediately commanded my attention was that - while all possible mothers there had someone to leave their children with, I on the other hand, did not.

I've heard several opinions about this and it's easy for someone who has a parent or grandparent or a sibling to leave their child with at a wink's notice to say that they should learn how to cope with their environment. Knowing what I know about my child; that she is very much opinionated, knows what she wants and is capable of traumatizing an adult in the manner in which she cries, that she can set off mass chaos with the voracity of her howling protest- how can I possibly leave her with anyone and not feel any sense of guilt? Guilty for the person watching her, that is. It is debilitating to say the least. Embarrassing (at times) even. Because I have no more excuses. Whether she's tired, hungry, sleepy or groggy - the reason she cries the way she does is because I am her only sense of comfort and security. This of course is expected, being a stay at home mom.

And if it were a process, it will be a long and treacherous one.

This was something I didn't foresee when we moved here. Getting lost. The sense of emotional space I would have to deal with as a mother, without close proximity to the people I would otherwise - ask for help.

* * *

I wrote that draft a few weeks ago, with every intention of finishing it but hit a dead end when I fell short of finding transcendence in my struggles. Because there always is; says the adult in my head. I could've just deleted the draft and moved onto other things, but felt that that particular evening was definitive of how I've now decided to alter my perception of how things are versus how I think they ought to be.

So this weekend I tried to find my bearings by taking Mandarin to a park to simply let her be. The girl loves to run and explore. Allowing her to play and discover to her hearts content was liberating, the fresh albeit cold air, cathartic. It is simple days like this with my family that I like to pitch in my anchor and steady my sails for the bliss and battles to come.

Happy Baby = Happy Mommy = Happy Family.

The internet (surprise!) harbors an alarming hoard of inspired words to live by. One in particular that I came across with:

"Life is not about waiting for the storm to pass...it's about learning to dance in the rain."

Source: sodahead.com via SevenHurricane on Pinterest

Of course, it's got me thinking: Migration is a bitch. There is it is. The simple truth. The hard truth. There are blessings of possibility and curses of detachment. It gives you opportunity with a side of isolation and pure moments of bliss with dismal echoes of gray discomfort. It is the constant turning of these binaries that can sometimes make settling into a life difficult. Manageable. But difficult at times.

I moved to a country known for vast spaces, interstate freeways and super sized opportunities and dreams only to find myself living a limited fraction of what I know I am fully capable of - with the biggest responsibility of my life nonetheless - Mandarin and motherhood. Now that I've finally (and painfully) admitted this to myself, I take it to duty to sift through my cluttered thoughts to find MY voice. To find MY place in the order of things, and ensure myself that I will have the tenacity to never get lost again.

When was the last time you danced in the rain?

All You Need Is Love.

2012-02-14T23:00:00.000-08:00

Image via: heythingschange

Even nature knows that love abounds.

Simple and understated is how our Valentine's evening went. I got a bouquet of perfectly red long stemmed roses (I may not be the sappy romantic, but I would take flowers any day) and Mandarin was lovingly handed a heart shaped balloon, that she of course brought to bed with her. A home-cooked meal; a nice fat juicy steak and herbed potatoes, a good movie and some family snuggle time is all the lovin' this family needs.

Happy ♥♥♥'s Day!

Feeling Good, February.

2012-02-08T00:22:00.000-08:00

This weekend gave us a double take with 65 degree weather, full on sunshine, blue skies and all the shades of summer - except that it's not. It doesn't feel like winter 'round here and we're not complaining. So the family and I packed up what little gear we had, took our bikes and the baby trailer on the road to have our day in the sun with some much needed heliotherapy. I say this, sounding like the ultimate bike enthusiast, but truthfully up until Saturday I have NOT ridden a bike on a paved road for at least ten years. Let’s just say, it’s a good thing that one doesn’t forget how to ride a bike and found my stride within a few minutes and partially went numb (legs) within the first mile or so. So out of shape. The water and the day’s clarity and warmth, the smell of salt in the air was a nostalgic invitation into beaches I have not driven my toes into for years. Either way, it was a good day to be out - even if I was on wheels.

The week also delivered lovely surprises. Mandarin learned to say the shortest word she’ll ever come to know. NO. Just when I thought she finally understood what I meant by saying it every time she toggled with the knobs of the stove, in spite of the fact that it already is baby proofed. I’m surprised she didn’t learn it earlier, opting to say more syllable friendly words like apple, purple, ball and a good number of animal sounds from Old Macdonald’s farm. I’m pretty sure the word stop is also in the forecast of her ever expanding vocabulary. While I am amazed at her development I am even more pleased that she has awakened into the value of choices. The fact that she has an opinion about the daily options of her precious little life reminds me of the miracle of every child’s prodigious growth and development. While she may have mindless moments of saying no to every single thing now as a toddler, the weight of this word carries the full embodiment and integrity of choice. As an independent individual, this will prove useful in her teen years when peer pressure comes into play.

What can I say…the girl knows what she wants as early as now. And I’m fairly certain that when it comes to the Nth serving of cheerios though, it’ll always be a yes.

In true mommy and me style, I also learned to say NO on a few things around the house this week. Old school kitchen tiles which I can’t really do much about, twenty year old wallpaper and our couch’s outdated blue fabric. On a whim I googled what-to-do-with-ugly-sofa and was entertained to find that there is in fact a contest on The World's Ugliest Couch, which admittedly made ours look more like Pottery Barn’s finest, as opposed to some of the Cosby sweater couches on there. Some couches were so incredibly bad that if you threw it, the dumpster would spit it back out. Incidentally my search also led me to Ugly Sofa a company that sells Brand X slipcovers for much much much less. I always knew I would never spend a ridiculous amount of money for what is essentially a sheet over your couch, I would gladly do it for a fraction of the cost.

I was ecstatic. Over the moon. I gleefully made my way to the living room stood right in front of both couches and barked “NO” wagging my finger as if it offended me. No! No more. There is hope and salvation from the chokehold of eighties furniture after all. Just a few more weeks until the living room can actually have a fresh makeover into the current century. So I turned up some Led Zeppelin and danced like a madwoman. All while saying, Yes. Yes. YES!

Oh, Hello.

2012-01-26T22:13:00.000-08:00

I just packed up Christmas at our house. Say what? Yes. It’s nearly the end of January and today was the only day I found time to box up the tree, the family of snowmen, stockings and ornaments. Back in the box. Back in the garage. It’s not all the product of procrastination either. The variables that factor into this delay include an appendectomy, a stroke, emergency rooms, a mistaken and mindless comment from a a clueless ER doctor stating the presence of metastatic prostate cancer, a pandemic of hypertension among family members, and a daughter who has now entered the Cling-on phase. All she does is cry out for me the second I put her down or leave the room for a nano second; and may I just say that this girl’s crying voice is of the disarming variety. All these and a tumultuous uproar of emotional (personal) noise. Some issues at hand that make me want to: A. Seek therapy. B. Meet up with an old flame - the cigarette (which I probably won’t because it’s too much of a hassle to quit - again). C. Be a porker and shove an entire box of chocolate covered macadamia nuts in my mouth. When the ship you’re sailing is rocked, finding one’s bearings is seemingly dim. Eventually the day breaks and calm waters do ensue but until then or at least for now I’m just coming up for air.

That’s what I wrote last night. This morning I woke up feeling like myself again and not the the growling monster I went to bed as. It felt peaceful waking up next to Mandarin this morning and seeing her so easeful and calm gave me the serenity to get over the occasional stress of motherhood. My palm still perfectly fits the side of her face just like it does with my hubby’s face and I find it meaningful that the emancipation - the mere act of opening one’s hands begets forgiveness and receives it just the same. All while being open to all the good that we forget is always there. I want to take this moment of clarity and put it in a locket to take with me anywhere I go as a constant reminder of hope.

January keeps trying to knock me down, but I’m still standing. And all I have to say to that is: Yes. Thank you. More please. I’ll be ready, February.

Friday Five: Five

2012-01-06T00:27:00.000-08:00

1. Good morning, Sunshine. ♥

2. Tori Amos Night of Hunters Tour at the Paramount Theater (Oakland). Easily one of the most phenomenal shows I've ever attended.

3. Teething. Bites.

4. We rocked Holiday pancakes!

5. Changing Lights at American Cupcake!

Happy Weekend!

♥♥♥

A New Year.

2012-01-03T12:19:00.001-08:00

Not exactly my idea of a celebratory new year's eve - and day.

Lunch and Dinner of watered down coffee and a cold PB & J sandwich c/o the hospital vending machine because the cafe was conveniently closed on weekends.
The Kindle never fails to entertain.

It came out of nowhere. The sharp pain in his abdomen that shortly followed our Skype calls with family in Manila. It was twenty minutes to midnight there and almost eight in the morning here. The fog had just barely lifted and the sun was slow and steady in its waking. It was a peaceful and reflective start to the last day of the year.

I made breakfast (festive holiday pancakes of snowmen and christmas trees) carefully scaling down my recipe to accomodate only two servings instead of the usual four. Leftover pancakes are no good. Hubby couldn't eat, writhed in pain and decided to head back upstairs to sleep it off. What we initially thought was the stomach flu, indigestion, and at some point a urinary track infection turned out to be appendicitis. Too see someone you love in pain is pain inflicted on yourself just the same. Of course it took 17 hours before we figured this out and finally decided that the ER was the best place to be. Blood tests, a CT scan and the best indicator yet - a hand poking around the abdomen to make you feel, Yeah, that's an inflamed appendix you got there.

This is all new territory for both of us. He's never been hospitalized before, and I've never seen him so helpless in all our 15 years together. It was difficult being in the waiting room alone. There was literally no one there with me except crickets, possibly a tumbleweed rolling across the filthy hospital carpet with dust trailing behind it and my racing thoughts of worst-case-scenarios. The procedure which only took a little over an hour seemed like a five hour wait. I get nervous like that. I paced around the hallway wondering which door my Hubbs would come out of that I unknowingly and conveniently hung around long enough just in time for a middle aged nurse with a warm smile to come out and call my last name.

"The doctor will be out to speak with you."

She's smiling so it must have gone well. Look at her eyes. Smiling. Good.

A few seconds later, the doctor walked out the thick swing doors like a rockstar strutting back on stage for her encore performance. Confident and happy. She actually took a picture of Hubbs' appendix and graciously shared it with me - I would have set it nicely on Instagram and shared, but knew better that vintage looking filters still won't amp the cool factor of an inflamed internal organ. An appendectomy is a standard hospital procedure, not exactly your hardcore medical variety, and hundreds of it are probably performed everyday, but there is still a very short percentage of things going wrong in the operating room. I was so relieved when the nurse walked out smiling.

Now that we've all taken a breath and it's all recuperation and recovery from this point on, I must admit that celebrations are in order. Sometimes we are faced with situations that run against what we believe is how things should be, such as, this is how a holiday should be spent and that everything else that contradicts that would be considered a cessation of all things good and happy.

This was not my idea of a celebratory start button for the year, but it was a damn good way of making the essential things come into view, setting the tone for the months ahead. To be thankful for life and to celebrate it in every possible way I can. Thankful for family (who would take care of your daughter, no questions asked - in spite of exhaustion and sleep deprivation, who will pick you up, drop you off, and bring things to the hospital for you when you need them). Thankful for excellent doctors and wonderful nurses. Thankful for friends who sincerely care about you.

This new year brought an alternate view to celebration. There is much more to applaud and commemorate in it that than a silver, shiny ball dropping at midnight and the clink of champagne glasses.

iAm Here.

2011-12-29T19:07:00.000-08:00

We finally gave in. And it's not just because it was the holidays. Well, we can find every excuse in the book including Mandarin killed my mobile phone: death by forceful throwing, but it's probably just because it is the holidays! A few weeks ago, our tech lives changed when two iPhones arrived on our doorstep. As it stepped into our home, my husband and I both stepped out into the present day. Possibly, the last of humankind to do so.

We don't live under a rock either, mind you. We're tech savvy, I know a pinch of code and my husband can pretty much figure his way through anything with specs and cables but the iphone to me always held an air of exclusivity - in which you are exclusively glued to it just like the rest of the world; an army of people huddled over the lucent sorcery this palm sized screen is capable of. So, for years my husband and I pretty much dodged it and favored no contract plans and so-so smartphones.

Until now. We bit into the Apple and re-awakened into a landscape of applications.

So there we were, two adults crossing the tech threshold. When you think about it, there is quite literally a world of applications and hidden fees out there. Will we transform into zombie game playing, application hoarding, email shooting, words-with-friends playing junkies? Quite possibly so. And thus, the absence.

Now that the honeymoon phase is over and this device is now just a phone that does pretty much everything else except kiss and nurture your child, the question that floats to the surface is: How does this gadget affect me as a parent? As a mother? There are far to many distractions as it is, I wouldn't want another piece of technology to take me away from spending quality time with my daughter, or teach her that a phone can babysit her all the time. Because we all know, it is capable of doing so: crowded restaurant + overwhelmed and hungry toddler = meltdown. Sometimes, you really just need to zone them into Zen.

So far, I've saved scraps of paper by using a grocery application, used Skype a multitude of times so Mandarin can see her Grandparents in Manila, and kept her from hysterically running after other children, (screaming and laughing with glee) at church on Christmas Eve by letting her watch Mickey Mouse Clubhouse.

Technology works.

However, when does it become too much tech for your toddler? I assume it's when you line up a book, your smartphone, a plush doll, and a sippy cup on a table and your child goes for the phone, and only the phone. Hand them the book, and they still go for the phone. As if they were choosing to suspend all other things for the glory of the gadget.

This really does concern me, not just as a parent but as a consumer who by experience knows that resistance is futile. You push a button and something opens and lights up. It is the very same simplicity that makes this device intuitive and alluring to both adults and young children. Although I feel extremely fortunate that Mandarin LOVES books and hope that she continues to find magic in between its pages well into her adult years, the reality is, children like her are born into this technology and will live and grow with it through the years.

You can see this in the isles of toy stores everywhere. While I do have a penchant for vintage toys and hope that Mandarin may someday find some sentimentality in that, she may not even know what a rotary phone is for and how it's even used!

via: Retro To Go

Mommy, what's vinyl?

Fisher Price

Same company, just keeping up with the times.

It's all about pushing buttons, these days. Children love to watch and mimic adults so it's no surprise that there are toy versions of pretty much everything we use daily.

My own mother comes to mind when there is talk of technology. After what ~~seemed to be~~ WAS a long decade of convincing, she finally agreed to learn how to email. She bought an ipad and thankfully no longer depends on other people to show her pictures of her granddaughter, or rather is no longer the last person in the family to see them. It was intimidating to her at first but with a slow and steady pace she's now attempted to walk through the app store and buy games. Meanwhile, across the Pacific her granddaughter, also new to technology, is eager, excited, and wildly curious about it - and the world around her too. It is for all those reasons why I feel as a parent I need to incite more creative play with her developmental toys, a very important part of their advancement as children.

Technology is no doubt a teachable platform that allows much room for education. It is a strict lesson on discipline both for parent and child. How far to give in and when to restrain, how much time to spend on it and when to set it down and get some sand in between your toes. Of course as parents we would want our children to be a step ahead and not behind, so as a compromise, I feel that if I was going to let her play with the phone while outdoors anyway, it might as well be used as a medium for education. I've listed a few applications I've found that may be useful tools for young toddlers.

10 Best Educational iPhone Applications for Toddlers

1. Flash Cards By Parents Magazine

2. Peek-a-Boo Barn Farm Animals

3. Alphabet Tracing

4. Interactive Alphabet ABC Flashcards

5. The Original Tale of Peter Rabbit

6. Grover's Number Special (Counting App for Toddlers)

7. Shape Builder Puzzle Game

8. First Words Series.

9. Sound Touch : Over 300 sounds and images

10. Dr. Seuss Books

♥

As a parent, I fear that she may suspend her innate ability to explore and her naturally curious mind by zoning in too much into the allure of LCD screens and high resolution images in the manner we do. Thus, the challenge. To lead by example, because that's what being a parent - being a mother is all about. Mandarin may (as a last resort) have her chance to discover the iPhone when we're out and about and there is a dire need to mollify her in a public area. As a general rule at home, we don't let her fiddle with our iPhones and try to keep it away from view as much as possible. She has too many more interesting things to play with. Music instruments, books, wooden blocks and toys, and dolls. I suppose this is our way of keeping a harmonious note of moderation in the media-laden age we live in.

This is my hope as a mother; that she steps out into the world well-balanced, educated, informed, independent and imaginative for creative play and that she knows how to happily keep herself busy with the ability to unplug herself from all the invisible wires that hold us captive.

Friday Five : Four

2011-12-09T12:36:00.000-08:00

1. Freshly made apple cider from a stall in Pike Place Market.

2. Getting ready for an afternoon stroll around the neighborhood.

3. Our Maple tree standing tall in front of our house.

4. What is it about early afternoon shadow pictures that I love? It's so whimsical. You can almost make out Mandarin's kitty-cat hoodie ears.

5. Pink Balloon flowers makes those shy dimples POP!

The gears of Christmas is in full rotation in our household, putting a halt to pretty much everything else - including posts that I've lined up about our Thanksgiving trip. Our petite Christmas tree is on its second year and has recently survived the huff and puff of our little girl, who not only stands in front of it with the finger pointing "wow" but who, out of curiosity (and who can resist shiny ornaments, really) pulled on an glittery ribbon that ultimately sent the entire tree crashing down.

Timber?

Nonetheless, the tree survived and is now cautiously cordoned off by a coffee table and a cajon. I'm still keeping my eye on Mandarin, the shiny silver reindeer ornament beckons her and I wouldn't be surprised if she learns how to climb over if only to pet or lick it.

Back Home

2011-12-01T23:08:00.000-08:00

We made it back home safely. After bouncing about in hotel rooms and a number of different beds within the span of a week, we are back to a house that although may not fully be ours, is definitely home; for now. Back to a bed that probably isn't as comfortable as the fluff and tuft of crisp white 1500 count cotton sheets we slept in, but is where we snuggle in as a family, taupe duvet, floral pillows, milk stains and all. Back to our lovely clutter of hellish laundry - the aftermath of a week's worth for the three of us.

Mt. Shasta LOVES you.
It's such a joy to see symbols in nature - at least what we make of it.
This was in no way photo shopped to shape out a heart - it really was there!

Although the drive was long, Mandarin slept, played, read (well not really read but looked through her books) and watched Mickey Mouse and Little Einstein, and alphabet phonics on our makeshift tablet / player. We were pummeled with rain and fog and extremely terrible standstill holiday traffic (12 hours to Seattle from Jacksonville, Oregon) and chilly temperatures that made you fluff up your feathers for a little more warmth.

I really meant to blog on the road but found the schedule too hectic, (coughing) toddler in hand and oh just about 35 people celebrating Thanksgiving in a lovely town just twenty minutes off Seattle. Somewhere between soaking in small town charms, long drives, ferry rides, precious baby nap times, eating copious amounts of stuffing, turkey, roast beef, pies and WA state micro brews, I lost time for myself and found that if you surrender to the tide you learn how to drift through the joyful chaos.

And while we did have a fantastic time, there wasn't much time for a gratitude time-out. To stand in the corner and quit complaining that we had to wake up far too early, sleep late, maybe not sleep at all, wear fifty layers of clothes, get cold and work up a sweat shortly after, and not have much time to sit back and relax and pretty much do nothing. Knock back a few good IPA beers and sing Pearl Jam's Breath until I hit all of Eddie's notes. Or lose my voice. Whichever comes first.

What does it take to be happily satiated?

I will not pretend to know the answer to this question. It seems that in everything that I do or anywhere I go there is always a certain time when that pinch of loneliness, a shadow of darkness, an echo that sounds off from a place that I am familiar with but cannot exactly find, comes up to the surface and reminds me that it's there. And it's not because I am not thankful. I'm not sure why it's there, but it is and has been a part of who I am for as far back as I can remember. It may be the voice of shifting hormones or sadness or PMS that momentarily shifts my perspective and empties me of the sense of appreciation.

The point is; it doesn't matter what you don't have. What I don't have. Siblings (I envy those with siblings...damn only-child-syndrome ), a house, a decent shoe rack, financial freedom, a Balenciaga Bag and Kim Kardashian's engagement ~~rock~~ ring.

Now that we're back home, I've had time to reflect as the dust settles from our tracks. It is easy to give thanks, sure. Thank you for the food on our table. Thank you for clothes that keep us warm. But to be thankful with meaning, to feel fortunate way down and deep in your gut for the good things you have going for you. That's a challenge because, frankly, it's much easier to complain.

What matters is what is actually there. Here and now. My parents, my besties (M & A), my closest cousins, our closest friends, uncles and aunts, a home, Mandarin memories, a kind and loving husband (who thankfully, really is my best friend of many many many years), a worn-out Steve Madden cross body that does the job, and a little girl that delicately whispers a most amiable "uh-oh" right before she nods off to sleep. There it is, straight from the gut.

♥ More photos from the trip to follow! ♥

Road Trip

2011-11-21T11:19:00.000-08:00

Just one more day before the great 800 mile road trip to visit family up North - our first ever with Mandarin.

Away We Go!

The timing for a virus to come and set up shop couldn’t have been any better. Lately our wee morning hours evenings have been worrisome; Mandarin gasps for breath and coughs relentlessly, wakes herself up, cries and reaches out for me. The distinct barking-of-a-seal-cough commonly known as Croup has invaded our camp. Begone! Pestilent virus!

If only it were that easy.

And so. Packing light. NOT happening - at all. Honestly, how does one pack light for freezing weather? We will be out a total of 6 days and with the forecast of snow, showers and more phlegm for Mandarin, I feel the overwhelming need to be prepared and to make sure she’s snug as a warm bug. Also, in light of recent health developments, we’ve decided to invite a fourth passenger into our car: the vaporizer. The only known weapon to create humidity and attack the croup with it’s power of steam particles. Beat that Tony Stark.

I rock my snowflake jammies.

Living in the Bay Area we have undoubtedly mastered the art of apparel layering. We’re used to our cool yet manageable upper 40’s. I notice this because ALL my clothes are for layering. No one definitive thick sweater, even my turtlenecks are thin. The general forecast for WA state weather: The week ahead they will be warming up to the 40’s. Warming being the operative word here.

Mandarin being sick is a pain for me to watch. The coughing, shortness of breath - I wish I could suck this virus out of her and spit it out like snake venom. Being sick for Mandarin pretty much means I’m not letting you and your Muumuu out of my sight, I will toss every single Morsel of food on the floor, and I will scream if you try to feed me Spinach ravioli one more time. And she did. Bloody murder, with her tongue sticking out.

Meanwhile, our luggages are 99% packed. I remember coming across the simple truth of this quote somewhere in the nook and crannies of the internet.

”When you are a mother, you are never really alone in your thoughts. A mother always has to think twice, once for herself and once for her child.”

- Sophia Loren

Packing for a child and for cold weather is like mental olympics. There’s a parade of outfits involved, some stretching and the whole sport of being here there and everywhere to get everything folded, rolled, bagged, tied and vacuum sealed. And when all is done, we still think what else we may have possibly left behind.

The kitchen sink, perhaps?

Friday Five : Three

2011-11-18T23:00:00.000-08:00

1. Studiously sitting and paying attention.

2. My First Bundt Cake (Pumpkin Spice Goodnesssssss)

3. Adorable Toddler Chairs. Randomly lined up on a street.

4. My (current) favorite necklace. I wonder what it will unlock.

5. If she had to dress herself: A bucket on her head and shearling boots. For the win.

Happy Friday!

Pocket Review : Apothederm Moisturizing Cream

2011-11-17T18:45:00.000-08:00

It’s the most wonderful time of the year - for a daily moisturizer that actually works. For more than a week now I’ve ritualized smoothing out a new cream on my face: Apothederm Moisturizing Cream. In my attempt to demystify the jargon surrounding this product, words that some of us normal folk don’t quite understand because clearly Smart Peptides and Emollient-rich are not part of our Sunday brunch lingo. I’ve loosely looked it up so here’s the skinny on the science behind this cream.

Smart Peptides: Amino acids that precisely target the appearance of your skin and addresses issues such as: The appearance of fine lines and wrinkles. Loss of elasticity. Loss of firmness and definition. Appearance of darkened areas or general unevenness of skin tone. Rough texture.

Thinning of the skin. Basically, skin care science.

Emollient: e·mol·lient [ih-mol-yuhnt]

adjective

having the power of softening or relaxing, as a medicinal substance; soothing, especially to the skin: emollient lotions for the face.

Paraben Free: Basically (Parabens) a class of chemicals commonly found in cosmetics, perfume, and skin creams that have been shown to cause certain health problems.

I’ve religiously used this sample for more than a week and have seriously noticed a subtle glow even after I slap on my make up. Rejuvenated skin? Maybe. While I don’t entirely notice age lines disappearing just yet, I don’t exactly obsess over every single feathered line on my face either. I do like the lightness of their formula, it’s easily absorbed within minutes of slathering it on my face with the hydrating effect of a thicker cream. It’s fragrance free, thank God, unlike some of the other well known creams out there I’ve tried that unfortunately left me (to the dismay of my husband) with a barking Eau-Le-Wet-Dog scent on my face. In the spirit of less is more with regard to products for your skin, I would have preferred this cream to have some SPF denomination to eliminate the need of putting two creams instead of one.

Either way, it would definitely make a wonderful gift regardless of age because - who doesn’t want fabulous skin? It’s hydration in a jar with the science of rejuvenated soft skin in the elemental harsh dryness of winter. Your skin is happy, hydrated and holiday ready.

Enjoy a $10.00 discount now and throughout December when you shop at Apothederm by entering TENOFF when you checkout. Your skin will thank you!

Yeah, you’re welcome.

* The views, opinions, and experiences expressed in this post are of my own volition and are in no way a paid advertisement from the company. The posts published on One Great Turning are personal opinons only. One Great Turning assumes no liability for any malfunction, injury, or other loss or damage whether direct, consequential or incidental arising out of services, companies, or products that have been either featured, reviewed or written about on this site.

Friday Five : Two

2011-11-11T17:28:00.000-08:00

1. Kissies in the morning. Yeah, I wake up all made up in the morning.

2. There's a real doll in there somewhere.

3. A Gandhi quote that we keep in our room as a reminder of how we can affect change for a better world for our children. It's written on a large stone that I took a photograph of in small shop in Carmel, CA a few years back.

4. Whimsical mobile from HERE.

5. Cuties in the morning.

It's always a great start to the weekend when your entire family spontaneously has lunch at your place. I just need to mention that for the first time I feel like an accomplished home cook because even with such a simple meal as Adobo Flakes with Queso Fresco and fresh tomatoes, Mandarin and my nephew, thoroughly enjoyed their lunch so much that he just had to say, "Auntie, yummy!".

Happy Friday!

Falling Back

2011-11-09T10:39:00.000-08:00

Chores caught up with me and held me hostage all day yesterday, leaving me exhausted and incapable of reflecting on our little weekend of wonder. In spite of the threat of rain, Saturday, we drove about a hundred miles south to Monterey Bay to take Mandarin to the Monterey Bay Aquarium - to make memories. There will always be room for memories in this house.

It really got me thinking; the huge responsibility we have as parents to give our children the gift of experiences and good memories before they venture out into the world on their own. And if you as a parent haven’t realized it yet, planning ahead is key, and a change of lifestyle definitely factors in. Children pay attention to every. single. thing. Yes. They’re watching you - not Children of the Corn watching you - but learning from you by example. These lessons and the bank of memories they carry with them will shape them to be the kind, responsible, brave, smart and happy adults we all hope them to be.

Every second, the frame of a memory is created. We memorialize the occasion by remembrance, much like the very act of framing a photograph; the physical manifestation of memories. It is terribly easy to take specific things for granted. I talk about gratitude and savoring the small things a lot because there are many days when I struggle to be thankful and complain about the silliest things. Today, it's my horrible pillow that keeps giving me stiff necks. It gets flat as a pancake. I should toss it. But then, gratitude...thank you for five hours of uninterrupted sleep.

Ok. So I'm still really learning how to use my camera in low light and as you can see in one of those photos, Mandarin is terribly whitewashed with the flash, though I liked the idea that I did get their reflection from the glass.
Much more lessons to be learned.

Thank God for photos because, let’s be honest though: she will not remember. Not the fries and halibut she tried for the first time for lunch at Phils Fish Market or the glowing jelly fish that floated in a ballet spectacle right in front of her in a dark room of awed guests, or that while making our way through the crowd surrounding the display of Puffins, Mandarin turned around uninterested by bathing birds because she was more interested in watching the chorus of people watching the puffins. Too young to remember for sure, at least not this deep into her childhood and I cannot begin discuss how incredibly fortunate I feel to be be there. To be HERE. To be present during possibly the most significant and important years of her life. The part where she learns about love - and pretty much everything else that will build character in her later years.

You know you want a bite.

I am not a parenting expert, but I am a parent and I've come to realize that at the heart of my daughter's understanding and discernment is her sensitivity to feeling. Children, I would assume are all similarly the same. They can feel if they are very much loved or neglected, sad, happy - all of which precedes language before they even fully understand what those emotions mean.

I want her to always feel loved, appreciated and happy - all while she's still oblivious to the wiles of the world. I want to prolong her innocence for as long as I can because that is one magical thing that once lost, they may never get back.

Let's see. Who seems more excited for the splash of water?

So. Monterey Bay. This coastal town delivered wonders for our weekend. Glowing wonders. Mandarin touched a starfish for the first time, the cold water iced her fingers and the feel of the starfish, I could imagine it must have seemed so exotic. She had an unexpected close encounter with a Bat Ray that startled and fortunately, didn't scare her. And those moon jellies, simply put, were stunning and hypnotic in the blue glow that surrounded them.

It almost felt heavenly.

Every second has to count. How to make it count; therein lies the challenge of parenthood. It is both difficult and similarly exciting. Especially with the holidays coming up, there are more occasions to celebrate, more memories to create. Memories that aren't just for her, they're ours too.

While on the subject of taking the time and making time to celebrate, it's - well - timely that we gained back an hour over the weekend too. A full hour to ~~read a book~~ do ~~laundry~~ do ~~watch Oddities~~ or ~~learn how to put together a Beauchene skull.~~ ..... I'll have to figure this one out in the next few days.

These days the sun dips into the horizon by 5:30pm and the day settles into its jammies much earlier and so, snuggles are definitely in order. Books before bedtime, too (I've started reading her Christmas stories to acquaint her with Santa Clause, christmas trees, elves and all the trims of the holiday season).

And yes we've started brushing our tooofees (her teeth came out pretty late).

She may not remember all the details. So we'll be here to remind her. Tell her stories of how she cooed out for the birds, and called out to the fish and how when she saw the Kelp forest and all the fishes for the first time the shape of her dainty mouth was a perfect "O" for a most wondrous and perfectly uttered WOW.

Friday Five: One

2011-11-04T11:43:00.000-07:00

1. Peek-a-Boo!

2. Footsies

3. Our first carved holiday pumpkins - ever! What!?

4. Orange Lilies. Love.

5. Tell the caterers to replace the cured salmon gravlax with the fennel, raddichio, and endive salad. Absolutely.

Happy Friday!

Frightfully Fun

2011-10-31T23:21:00.000-07:00

This may have just been our most wholesome year yet. All clad in a red $10 Forever 21 dress, black leggings and a skull dotted scarf tied in as a belt and a $4.00 headband from the halloween store, I’ve visibly transformed into Minnie Mouse. At least in my mind I did. I’m not out to win the grand prize anyway, although I seriously considered a zombified alternative - a dead mouse - but ultimately fell into the throes of lethargy and decided wholesome will do for this year.

Mickey Mouse Clubhouse

You can see it but she's rocking a black AC/DC shirt underneath her polka-dot wholesome-ness!

Friday night was HubbyHubs birthday party at home with family which we conveniently theme apropos to said lethargy. A Pajama party! I had cooked all afternoon and so in spite of the public appearance of my Muumuu my hair smelled of the essence of fried chicken and baked spaghetti. Truly frightful. The rest of the weekend was slathered with a generous serving of friends and fun - and a decadent mousse cake.

Boo!

Trick or Treat tonight around the neighborhood! Tonight’s cast of characters included, a Jedi soft serve ice cream cone, a banana, a medieval couple, a dinosaur, batman, Gumby, a german maid and Pocahontas. The chill in the air was definitely one of the season’s trickeries, but then that’s the Bay area for you. Warm and inviting one moment and a chilly micro-climate shift three houses down the road later.

Still, Minnie Mouse and her crew - friends and family in tow, trotted on with pea coats and hoodies and held on to her candy pail for dear life. I have to say, that really cracked me up. How she held on to it ever so tightly, so alert, curious and surprisingly quiet during the walk though of houses. Even when exhaustion crept up on her halfway through our candy route, she refused to be carried and soldiered on, albeit holding Daddy’s hands until we decided it was getting too cold for the little ones.

Notice Gumby and his friend, the Saber wielding Jedi Soft serve cone.
Gumby, Batman and Elmo. Randomness.
No Mandarin! NOT the Almond Joyyyy! Nooooooo!

Back home, all the candy was for the taking. All TEN of it. Not much loot this year and definitely a step up from last year, Mandarin munched through the packaging; Whoppers was her favorite and her friend (two weeks younger than Mandarin) actually broke through the packaging and thoroughly enjoyed the sugar rush of a Crunch bar.

Now that Halloween has officially passed, it now shifts to that time of year when everything runs on warp speed. Thanksgiving. Road trip! Parties. Birthdays. Parties. Then Christmas; parties, and before we know it a new year dawns on us. So many incredible opportunities to celebrate and memories to create that I can easily lose myself in the labyrinthine hallways of to-do lists.

And so.

I need to stop and breath and pause to feel that chill in the air. The scent of the holidays and its slew of party hats, dinner plates and ornaments are set to arrive and I want to make sure that we are right there and ready when it does, because we are thrilled to welcome it back into our home.

Hope you all had a spooktacular Halloween weekend!

Weekend Roundup

2011-10-25T13:13:00.000-07:00

This weekend was gratuitously graced with light and warmth - and we love it when a plan comes together! There's always something to do with the kiddies when aboard your Red Tricycle!

Besides, I've been wanting to go back to the zoo ever since our first trip because Mandarin and the girls were far too young ( translation: they could care less about the animals and mommies just wanted a day out! ) and lately, I've noticed that Mandarin has shown much interest in animals.

So, Off the Palo Alto Junior Museum and Zoo it was. We could have gone BIG, SF Zoo big, but decided to keep it manageable and non-committal.

There was a good lot of creatures and critters there. Not your average petting zoo; with bobcats, raccoons, ferrets, a beautiful peacock and other colorful birds, and a simulated African cave with clusters of bats. Let's not forget the affable host of this joint - this fellow right here and his entourage of ducks too.

I want a golden egg for easter!

Mandarin on Bunny Watch.

Leaf prints all around. You don't notice it at first, due to its subtle print.

"Quack, Quack" says the duck

Carefully scheming for a Bunny Bust!

Mandarin encounters her first bridge.
Hesitant, alone. Brave and assured while Daddy holds her hands across the bridge.

She kept going back to the bridge, determined to conquer it herself. Even on all fours.

We do not like large ceramic toads.

Nonetheless, full recovery by the pond.

What would I do with a golden egg.
Stick my tongue out and lick it, for sure.

I find it heartwarming and amazing that such a place exists solely on the love a community has for children and the donations of visitors. The Junior museum and zoo is well kept, free, and best of all, clean. It's a great place to educate young curious critters without having to deal with a large crowd.

Taking trips to sweet little spots like these on a weekend opens up more opportunities to do other things after. Off to a cafe or a thrift store - maybe both?

Yeah, why not. There's time. ♥

Tuesday Musings

2011-10-18T16:37:00.000-07:00

Perusing through the virtual isles of Anthropologie on a cozy and foggy Tuesday while the baby sleeps is like rowing down a chocolate river with a giant straw for an oar while an Oompa Loompa watches over your shoulder.

Just one sip, you think. But of course. Restraint as always.

Even with this: The incredibly gorgeous Hip Cinched Blouse. I've had my eye on you for awhile now. And look - mustard!!!!

Torture. Gorgeous.

or this

Because why wouldn't you ~~need~~ want the perfectly coordinated design of this Spanish motif of the Calvia Serving Bowl? With polka dotted glazed handles.

Moving on. Merrily merrily merrily merrily, life is but a dream.

A quick weekend roundup consisted of a generous swirl of family fun. A trip to premium outlets and a Sunday backyard BBQ. But with the transitional weather of warm days and cooler evenings, the sniffles have returned for both Mandarin and myself, and while we're thrilled to fall back into the season of snuggles, getting sick is not for happy-happy-joy-joy moments.

The sun barely made an appearance today - the fog barely lifting above the hills like the droopy eyelid of a sleepy day. And that’s exactly what today feels like. Time for a warm cup of tea with Mandarin kisses. No need for concern on whether either one of us will catch the sniffles from each other.We’re sharing blankets - and a cold too.

Wonder Fall

2011-10-12T15:44:00.000-07:00

This weekend we set sail for fall and went full speed ahead in seasonal bliss. In spite of warmer temperatures during the day, the evening moon brings the chilly cloak of fall into our doorstep with its train of crisp brown leaves from neighborhood trees and cinnamon-spiced air of baked apples and roasted pumpkins.

I can sense it in the air - just like I did with Christmas in Manila as soon as the last quarter of the year rolled in. Growing up in the tropics pretty much meant that our four seasons were either heat, blistering heat, rain and apocalyptic typhoons. It was just either one of two: sweat or wet by fire or flood (It’s no surprise why I LOVE rain). Intuitively, every person on the planet can somehow relate to the motions that go into seasonal shifts; the essence of change within a full year’s closing transcends culture and geography.

Nonetheless, it seemed pretty ridiculous to bulk up in cable knit sweaters, riding boots, and run around stacks of hay, schools of pumpkins large and small, pony rides in 100 degree weather - in the tropics! So we had ghouls and ghosts and all things paranormal instead and Halloween was a day’s event of tricks and treats and not a month long celebration of harvest and color and ultimately, thanksgiving in short, Christmas in Manila is what all the festivities of fall is for here.

Tradition begins here for us. More than ever, I crave for shifts of color - the ochres, deep browns, crimson (lips and nails!) and all shades of mustard. Mustard, I covet you! I will slather anything with this color if I could. Hot dogs, pork chops but seriously, sweaters good enough to lick, scarves, bags, shoes, fabric. I want them all. And yes, there are ornamental gourds on my dining table and pumpkins on our front door because it’s the season to be ~~jolly~~ gourdy or as elegantly versed HERE. Classic.

I am in shameless seasonal bliss.

As far as family traditions go, this weekend’s Pumpkin Patch with close friends was a fabulous place to start. The journey of the year has brought us here, watching our children soak in the season where pumpkins aren’t (god forbid, vegetables) but an icon of fun and playfulness. Mandarin let loose and ran from one pumpkin to another like a little hummingbird, hovering for a moment and moving on to the next branch of curiosity fearless and free. We chased after her at times, as evidenced by my ~~tongue hanging out of my parched lips~~ bullets of sweat dancing around in our brow .

It is inherently human to crave change and this year’s journey into motherhood was nothing short of life changing. So much in you changes in motherhood. So much you don’t expect, like being capable of carrying a 22 pound toddler on your hip while you re-stock her diaper bag with one hand. While your left foot swiffers the kitchen floor. Also, being emotional (Psst...it doesn't end in pregnancy!) You’re heart breaks for the million things you cannot provide and afford for your daughter and then become reminded of the twenty things you can fully give her (such as the priceless commodity of love).

Mandarin's First Pumpkin pick!

We crave change because we outgrow ourselves - and grow with our children, our husbands, and our friends. We unknowingly attune ourselves with seasons with almost primal conduct, as if a switch is flipped and all self-reflective wisdom is gathered, all things that have come into fruition are taken to make way for growth.

We all have reasons
for moving.
I move
 to keep
things whole.
- Mark Strand

Growing with my family is a blessing and I am all for the celebration of family traditions. Those that carry over from our family and unprecedented ones that my own family has yet to forge into being. Seeing this sign at the pumpkin patch was an excellent reminder of what is always most important in all things that we do.

Give thanks - for ice cream.

Gratitude is always welcome guest in our home that comes and goes. Often times left out when the house is occupied with of loads of laundry, blatant routines, and things that simply need to get done. Still, there will always be room for Gratitude. Now that’s one guest that should definitely stay for good.

DIY: Ice Cream (Sundae) Place Card Holders

2011-10-07T22:35:00.000-07:00

Squeeze a rock hard enough and a gem pops out. A day before Mandarin's birthday party, I was still in need of place card holders. I found it to be one of those decorative details that mattered when it came to the overall design of her party. And since my husband and I were unwilling to spend a ridiculous amount for the boring set of hearts and spheres sold at craft stores, we juiced our thoughts for something more exciting.

It started with popsicle sticks. A grueling twenty minutes. Wood glue. Maybe a wood saw and a large question mark on how to make it all work together. Finally I ended up in the plant section of our craft store, picked out an adorable glass pot which I initially thought I'd fill with sand to hold the stick upright.

Mister (Hubby ♥) grabbed a small styrofoam ball and checked if it was a good fit. It sat perfectly on the lip of the pot and we both thought - ice cream! I figured the leftover japanese tissue paper I had left would cover the ball perfectly.

A small glass cup, craft sticks, styrofoam ball, pastel tissue paper, crinkled paper (can be found at craft stores - used as fillers for gift bags etc.)

Carefully round out the tissue paper around the styrofoam ball. Be gentle, they tear easily. Fill the small cup with the filler paper - just about halfway.

And just like that. You've gotten crafty!

Vintage Ice Cream Parlor Printouts
Thank you very much!

Place card holders - in less than 10 minutes!

DIY: Sundae Bowls (Party Giveaways)

2011-10-03T13:19:00.000-07:00

Yes. I am aware that it's no longer summer and that Mandarin's birthday was a month ago, but an excellent DIY project I made for her party turned out so simple to do and good enough to eat and good enough to share. However late it may be.

Pastel colored Ice Cream bowls. Fill with candy, toys and all things sweet and nice.

Pastel colored tissue paper. Fold it into itself ( keeping the top smooth) until you make a small "scoop " of ice cream.

Medium sized "cherry" red pompoms (from your local craft store)

Glue!

It's all coming along nicely.

Good enough to eat!

Make it Work

2011-09-22T00:22:00.000-07:00

It is quiet around the house these days. My parents left over the weekend and went back home to Manila, all the party clutter from a few weeks ago have slowly been washed, tucked, folded and kept and the house that withstood the tornadic wind of dinner parties and delivery boxes, premium outlet shopping bags, and a deluge of toys - is still standing.

Breakfast for one. The cup that always makes my day.

And what had been months and weeks of preparing breakfast for six, is now breakfast for two. Mandarin and me. Somehow, I do enjoy the quiet moments and I am thankful for the bouts of clarity that come with it, but then on other days it is the very same air of quiet that poses as the frenemy of an idle and vulnerable mind. I allow these emotions to filter through me with almost porous intent because I’ve learned that barricading them, brushing them off as insignificant, leads to major emotional backlog.

It was probably one of the most difficult goodbyes I’ve had, crying spells and all that jazz. All the more because of the time my parents spent with Mandarin. And I ache every time I am brought to the reality of how far we live apart, from my parents and my husband’s parents - so I tell myself - that’s just the way it is. C’est la vie. We’re here now and we’ll just have to make the most of out what we have. And be happy while we’re at it!

So, moving forward we took a break on Sunday and spent some much needed time with the family we are grateful to have here - cousins and a brother. An afternoon of burgers and BBQ and a petting zoo for kids was the perfect relief to a hot day.

Britney? Gimme Gimme...

Befriending a Tortoise and what she would probably ask Santa for Christmas.

Or maybe she'd like a pony!

On our way home I noticed The maple leaves of our tree out front, on cue, has started changing color. It’s leaves were fringed with ochre tones as if sometime when we were all asleep the autumn hands of this season’s turning came and magically combed through it’s foliage. We welcome this change and in fact even look forward to it.

A few days before my mother flew back, I placed my vintage (handkerchief) bunting across the Balinese divider that we put up against a stark white wall. I asked her how it looked and wasn’t too happy with the faint whisper of disapproval she let out, which she followed through with “is it a fiesta?“ through a smile and a jaunty “but if makes you happy seeing it there....”

Well.

It makes me happy seeing it there. It’s like a smile that flashes every time we enter the living room and although it might be a decorating disaster to do so, I find that it brightens up the room. And yes, it is fairly festive in here but only because there is always something to celebrate; especially in the minutia of things.

There's always something to celebrate.

The sense of wonder that we all should never lose.

That’s me making the most out of it.

Happy Birthday, Baby!

2011-09-19T23:03:00.000-07:00

I Scream! You Scream..we all know how that one goes. As far as ice cream parties are concerned, our little vintage parlor for Mandarin’s birthday turned out better than I expected.

Homemade ice cream cake pops! Whaaat?

We drove to our party place as early as they’d let us in to set up what seemed to be an army of details that needed attention to a tee. Paper pompoms. Check. Jars. Candy. Cookies. Chocolate. Sprinkles. Check!

After months and months of planning, the ice cream parlor I had created in my mind was now spread out in all its sweet glory. The Neapolitan balloons I had ( partially ) designed turned out so good and looked perfect for each guest table. The details that I had slaved over for months, weeks, and days, paid off in the three hours we had in our ice cream place.

Mandarin was running on adrenaline, nap-less, and (I would imagine) hungry - because she didn’t want to eat, in fact too excited and distracted to eat except for a bottle of milk and that one marshmallow ice cream cone we gave her as a treat for her birthday, which as I would have expected she thoroughly enjoyed with sugary and sticky gusto.

It was bittersweet; the party. It seemed like the culmination of a full year marked by infinite beginnings and endings that move you forward into better and brighter adventures. The fine line that some parents say mark the point where babies turn into toddlers.

But she'll always be our baby.

Much of the sweetness of the day was a taste beyond our little toppings spread and rainbow sprinkles and more from a family full of love.

and loving friends

and laughter

and cake

and the best cousins

and aunties who love her dearly

A mama who would do anything and everything for you - including getting crafty for your party (and bake which she's NEVER done before. Ever.)

A Dada who would pull the moon closer to your window just so you can see it better

and girlfriends

(We would also like to introduce: The "Wow" face)

and (assisted) jumping photos!

The day you were born...silly girl!

And that smile. She makes us all so incredibly happy. That smile lingers in you like a flurry of butterflies that tickles and giggles and flutters about - like being in love.

One and Overwhelmed

2011-09-10T00:09:00.000-07:00

When my family is here (visiting), I allow my heart to expand to its fullest capacity to make sure that all needs are met, all requests are granted and all days are happily spent. And while it is extremely rewarding it is also just as exhausting - with a one year old nonetheless that has the sugar rush energy of a candy bar.

MY ONE YEAR OLD!
I'm so proud of her! ♥

Amidst the joy of having Mandarin turn one so many things go into a day with her that I need to remind myself to be present.

Which now, as I write the word present I am brought into this moment of being with her and realize it is the next best gift (after a mother's love) I can give her. To simply be with her without having to split my mind into a thousand multi-tasking drones.

Because when days feel like a routine-heavy program with no override command and thus cannot be disabled, I can easily lose a day in schedules. Wake. Play. Puree fruit for baby. Breakfast. Feed. Dishes. Laundry. Bath time. Nap. Prepare Lunch. Eat. Dishes. Diapers. Head out with visiting family. Play. Coffee. Diapers. Milk. Dinner. Diapers. Sleep??

Never mind if you’re tired or have a headache or that you’re not getting enough sleep at night because for some odd reason Mandarin wants to climb and lie on top of me in the middle of the night or deflate Daddy’s left lung with high kick, mid-snore at 4am.

Be present.

Such, is the joy of co-sleeping. I do constantly get to smell her, which I LOVE (because i’ve been addicted to her baby scent since birth). And I do love waking next to her.

That's right. Be present.

Still, in spite of it all, off day or not there are priceless rewards. In the way Mandarin responds to my parents, how she loves them and the quiet and loud moments they share together. And in the way she makes them laugh. That’s priceless. There goes my heartstrings. Pulled past sappy sentimentalism.

Then there is THE party. Today at 1pm! The birthday party which I am terrified no one will show up in because no one rsvp’s anymore and even if I’ve estimated an X amount of guests and ordered an X amount of food I somehow feel I’m in for a surprise. I am lost in the rambling details of party trays, decorations, japanese tissue paper, tape and glue.

Thank you, Vintage Ice Cream Parlor idea for driving me waaay past the delineation of crazy. I have a few hours to execute my daughter’s first birthday party. I’m excited to celebrate with friends and family and a little anxious because I’ve never held a party with so many details before - and not as important and meaningful as my daughter’s.

The small calm oasis in me tells me that it should all be good. Keep calm and carry on. On the flip side and as an offshoot of this party I do have two DIY posts lined up! Coming up soon ~~when~~ if sanity settles back into the household.

Mandarin Turns ONE!

2011-09-01T01:03:00.000-07:00

It’s 12:01 am and as I write this we are only three and half hours shy of my little girl turning a year old! She is sleeping peacefully next to me in her light blue polka dot and sundae print pj’s, and probably doesn’t even have a clue how far she’s come in the past year. She is sweet and loving, vibrant and full of life and unexpectedly funny. What a personality she has for such a young age! She has grown so much in a year’s time; I am in awe of how much she’s taught me about life - being present in the moment and savoring the small things (more lessons learned with her than all the Zen books I’ve ever read). As she’s learning to cope with the fast-paced world that surrounds her, I am in turn learning how to slow things down to be in the moment with my Mandarin.

♥

First picture!
A Birthday Photo!

Because as every parent would say. They grow so fast.

My Dad trying to catch a glimpse of his first grandchild!

♥

We adore you.

I used to read this poem aloud to her throughout my pregnancy. Every time I did, I’d think of how her tiny heart was beating inside my belly and how the miracle of life has made it possible for two hearts to beat in a single body in the shared rhythm of motherhood and pregnancy. I know she felt my words as I read it aloud to her.

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in

my heart) i am never without it (anywhere

i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done

by only me is your doing, my darling)

i fear

no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) i want

no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)

and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows

higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)

- e.e. cummings

We became a family.

And my heart. She has it. She doesn’t know it yet, but it is she that carries my heart now. I’ve given it willingly so my love will be with her all her life. Always.

♥

Happy Birthday, my LOVE. You are my sunshine - the light the brings me joy.

Note to Self:

2011-08-19T23:33:00.000-07:00

When buying vintage table linens at the Alameda antiques fair make sure you have the proper table measurements written down. Don’t get all giddy by the deluge and sentiment of vintage fabrics and think maybe it’ll work as a table runner.

Because it won’t.

Now that I've actually looked up table sizes, our table that seats 6-8 people is on the longer side of 60 x 84 and the linens I bought was roughly 60 x 72. I didn't take drapery into account. It covered the table for sure - just like a haircut would frame your lovely face except with pixie bangs.

This is the longer side. On the other end only an inch and a half hangs over the table. Pixie Bangs!!!

Either way, what a difference it made to our dining area! I didn't realize the intimacy involved in shopping for table linens and how meticulous I would be with a specific vintage look in mind.

This print from the fifties is fantastic! Nothing short of vibrance and life. And yes, I intended that pun.

One Small Step

2011-08-11T22:58:00.000-07:00

One small step. One big milestone. My mother told me that I started walking sometime in my 10th month and because our darling Mandarin still has no teeth at nearly a year old, we figured she would walk first - and she did! Well, not quite walking just yet. A few steps, independent in nature, followed by the sudden clutch of security hand on sleeve or arm or hair as she finds her bearings.

Loving Lala

And while on the subject of bearings, I’ve managed to find a book of rhymes that tinkers with the heartstrings of my own childhood. Mother Goose and its sometimes subversive and meaningless yet highly memorable collection of limericks and rhyme shaped the rhythm of my childhood. It’s a substantial start for poetry, playful and fun - Mandarin doesn’t understand it yet of course. Still, it doesn't stop me from reading it to her. Even if all she wants is to eat the book, or point at the images in it and say...“Bah!”

The images that Gyo Fujikawa brought to this book of rhyme took this to an even deeper level of nostalgia. The illustrations are simple and innocent and in my opinion, exactly what young children should be looking at. But then this is the day and age we live in, and while the world out there is harsh and tough; the pace is fast and unforgiving. I choose to keep it simple with our usual parade of songs and rhyme. And laughter. There should always be the enlightenment of laughter.

Old School Charm
You know you're a fan at heart.

Possibly one of my favorite illustrations in the book. It's a small world after all....

As Mandarin takes baby steps forward, I take leaps ahead and nurture thoughts of how to create and maintain a safe and happy home for her; memories that will deeply be rooted in her childhood so that when she does start walking tall in the world, her bearings will be solid and fixed so she can always find home no matter where she is.

A Good Day

2011-08-03T23:21:00.000-07:00

The simple pleasure of living your life with the intent of being happy is an effort that should be consciously taken everyday - regardless of what you hear from other people. Or how much it may hurt to hear words that may offend you. So here I am. Consciously making an effort; my Mandarin is pure joy to me, just the thought of her could light a dark room. The effort comes in the conscious re-shaping of perspective (which I often forget). I am grateful for the small things that matter.

And for today: I am grateful for the time I am currently spending with my Mom and my Aunt (both visiting). Also, Mandarin took her first BART ride to the city today...and fell asleep. A perfectly sunny day in the city and how getting home at a leisurely hour opens up more playtime opportunities.

We like to stand on our tippy-toes.

(I adore this look on her face. It's almost certainly followed by an uttered syllable of her choosing - oh with that innocent and powerful voice.)

And read.

Ever since she's learned the sign for more, she's effectively used it to communicate with us instead of frustrated grunts and whiny shrieks.

We threw out our toys...

just because we can.

And looked at them.

We missed Daddy.

So we gave BIG hugs.

Mommy wanted a family photo.

Dinner:

Pureed medley of chicken breast with butternut squash and green peas.

Homemade baby!

What toys?

♥

Grateful.

Surrender

2011-07-28T17:23:00.000-07:00

kindle - /ˈkɪndl/ Show Spelled verb, -dled, -dling.

–verb (used with object)

1.to start (a fire); cause (a flame, blaze, etc.) to begin burning. 2. to set fire to or ignite (fuel or any combustible matter). 3. to excite; stir up or set going; animate; rouse; inflame: He kindled their hopes of victory.

♥

As an English Major in college the thought of reading a book through a 6 inch screen was a ridiculous thought. Not because I didn’t believe in the technology; I was a purist. Books should be held, loved; paper and pages turned apropos to the pace of the story. I always said that I’ll be the last person to buy an e-book reader simply because a stack of books, a bookstore, and books neatly lined up on a white rustic shelf appeals to me more than a mini lemon bundt cake paired with a cappuccino does. And that is my thing. Lemon Bundt Cake with a cappuccino. I always had a book in my bag, as evidenced by tattered copies of Wislawa Symborska, Rilke, an Rumi’s poems or my fiction flavor of the month. I love the smell of books and oddly enough the musty scent adds to my sensory experience of reading.

And so when my husband gave me a $100 gift card for Amazon (thank you Capital One Rewards Program!) and informed me that I was under strict instructions to only spend it on myself and not on our Mandarin, I thought about buying a handful of books - I left so many of them behind in Manila and sadly even if I found a way to bring them all to this side of the Pacific, I wouldn’t have any place to store them. No house, no space. That’s a definite no-go.

Today’s technology seems more intuitive to Mandarin’s generation than it is to - say- my mother. Age is irrelevant. The children of today are born into a world of touch screens and tablets and reading devices that can hold 3500 books. It saddens me, it really saddens me that they may not even have actual bookstores in the future where you can get lost in the labyrinth of bookshelves and pick out books you’re so excited to read that you just can’t wait to get home to curl up in bed with it and get lost in thought.

Now you can get a book in 60 seconds. In between breaths. The suspense! However, with recent news that Borders is closing its doors, it’s either the world has become overtly illiterate and has decided to stop reading or the wave of technology has taken over and e-books and everything digital is the medium of the future.

You cannot possibly miss Amazon’s Kindle! It’s on the front page of their site and when you’ve got a $100 hall pass in hand you have possibility in your fingertips. The Kindle Wi-Fi was listed for $114 a tempting offer that can’t be refused because just a mere $14 more and...well..why not? Keeping the future in mind, I figure I’d treat it the way I do music. If I love it enough (MP3’s) I buy the CD. It still won’t keep me from buying books, in fact, I’d probably treat it with much reverence even more.

Two days later, thanks to Amazon Prime!

I feel the need to ritualize the first book to be read in my Kindle, like tipping over a bottle of tequila to the gods before taking shots for yourself. A nod to the classics! So I’ve decided to start with some Jane Austen (Pride and Prejudice) to keep the air light before I dive into some serious reading - if I can even find the time to do so. In spite of my initial hesitation, I feel the Kindle and I will become great friends. We’ll go on trips together, have slumber parties in our jammies, sunset in the beach and get some sand on its screen.

Hell, we can even grab a slice of lemon bundt cake and sip on a cappuccino.

Weekend Warmth

2011-07-25T18:08:00.000-07:00

This weekend peaked with summer warmth. Never mind the threat of a cold. Things needed to get done, regardless of airborne viruses and congestion and the day was far too lovely to waste. Saturday morning we drove down south to spend some much needed time with family, a quick stroll around the local farmers market and a korean BBQ lunch.

I don’t know why I get so giddy with farmer’s markets. It it the fresh organic produce? The banjo playing on the street corner? Freshly popped kettle corn, parisian bread, flowers? It’s probably everything and a few things that vary from trip to trip.

fresh cherry tomatoes

huge sunflowers and gorgeous lilacs

Itsy-bitsy, teeny-weeny Zucchini!!!! They’re adorable. I want to adopt one.

Fresh organic berries and fruit preserves!

Sweet Baguettes!!

I always get caught in these situations. So many pretty things to take photographs of and the achingly familiar line I keep uttering to myself. I should’ve brought my camera.

There must be an easier way to travel with the bulk of an SLR camera and all the necessary accouterments of parenthood: stroller, handbag, diaper bag - and child! Even my trusty point and shoot was left behind, all I had for the weekend was my blackberry which has never failed to capture the fleeting moments of our days. Probably would be better if the BB community had Instagram too!

I love photo opportunities, but find it difficult traveling with my camera, unless I’ve planned for a shoot that day. And while I COVET the Kelly Moore bags just like everyone else out there, I find the price too steep and will simply keep it within my crosshairs’ sight of a mega sale (if there even is one). I’ll just have to settle with my painfully obvious yet exceptionally functional Nikon camera bag.

Into the Woods

2011-07-16T23:56:00.000-07:00

Today I will let the pictures speak for themselves. Taken on a perfect summer's day a few weeks back - we finally made it to Muir Woods after putting the trip off for quite sometime now. We couldn't have picked a more perfect day to cross the Golden Gate Bridge and take in the sights of our lovely city!

Lucky shot ... in passing.

My 3rd Eye.

Hello, Love.

Sweet Pea

Walking through the trail was humbling to say the least. To be in the company of Redwood trees that reached far up into the sky like hands outstretched for blessings; giving air to the the solemnity of its space was a spiritual experience to say the least. The energy of nature thrives within us and is fully awakened when we remove ourselves from the daily clutter of our lives.

Sacred.

A guest arrives - or rather the host perhaps? It was I that was the curious guest. Our little friend here was merely going about her business.

And so it goes with the Chipmunks

The past two weeks have been a blur with guests staying with us and sadly no opportunity to take new photos and brush up with my on-going education and affair with photography.

Looking back at these photos, the stillness of time is revealed, the sacred moment of when we passed through and how the forest embraced us with the nurturing bliss of nature and the verdant clarity of what it means to grow and thrive. Renewed, you leave the woods feeling dwarfed in the general order of things with your enlivened spirit now walking tall among the trees.

First of Summer

2011-06-21T23:31:00.000-07:00

The heat is on. We scream just because we can.

Today’s ninety degree heat was set with the reassuring clarity that more good things are to come. There is much movement around the house these days. Milestones and memories both reached and recorded - the elusive flying kiss, a rare occurrence escapes even record time shutter speeds.

Who made the world?

Who made the swan, and the black bear?

Who made the grasshopper?

This grasshopper, I mean-

the one who has flung herself out of the grass,

the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,

who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-

who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.

Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.

Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.

I don't know exactly what a prayer is.

I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down

into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,

how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,

which is what I have been doing all day.

Tell me, what else should I have done?

Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?

Tell me, what is it you plan to do

with your one wild and precious life?

- Mary Oliver

The Summer Day

"Tell me, what is it you want to do with your one wild and precious life?"

The Alameda: June

2011-06-17T15:30:00.000-07:00

The Alameda Antiques Fair last Sunday was alive with nothing less than the swag of old-world charm and voracious energy. The fabulous flea market of 800 plus vendors, odd treasures, vintage finds, and inspired ideas is hardcore as far as flea markets go. There's a reason why there are varied fees. If you're eyeing that vintage french provincial arm chair, layer up, cough up $15.00 and eagerly stand by the gate by 6:00am. Fight through a crowd from 9:00am - 2:00 pm for a mere $5.00 because it's the perfect time for most people. You've had a good meal, didn't have to wake up too early and you're caloric intake is all set to burn on the Alameda runway.

Even better for others is the FREE 2:00pm slot - which for the curious many is just to walk the rounds without a set list in mind. But then again you can get lucky and bring home a entire box of mis-matched china for $2.00 just because the vendor doesn't want to take it back on the road anymore.

Ideally though, I think the best time to go would be from 7:30am - 9:00am. Start somewhat early, beat hoards of people, haggle for that vintage chair AND still make it to a fabulous brunch in the city. How's that to start an awesome Sunday.

6:00 AM to 7:30 am $15.00

7:30 am to 9:00 am $10.00

9:00 am to 2:00 pm $ 5.00

2:00 pm to 3:00 pm Free!

Check out more updates on their website:

THE ALAMEDA

Actually some vendors do stay, but there is the general air of being rushed because most of them start packing up past 3:00pm.

Not all vendors were happy about my camera snapping away, most of them didn't care (probably even expected it) though there were a few sensitive ones who actually stopped me mid-shutter to tell me it wasn't allowed.

Some notes and favorite images of the day.

Paper Flowers. Love.

Takeoff!
The Alameda Checklist:
1. Comfortable shoes!
2. Water
3. Sunhat
4. Cash
5. A list of what you want to find. It's overwhelming without one. You'd either end up buying random things you don't really need or end up with nothing at all.

Vintage Eye-candy.

Antique Butter Churner.
A vintage kitchen appliance was on my list, but even if I bought it I really wouldn't have any place to put it.
Just lovely to look at.

Dolls! They freak me out. Which is probably the reason why I'm oddly attracted to them and the sinister glare beset on those ghostly faces.
Just don't leave me in a room with them.
Because they'll probably start talking.

Love how these frames are hung. Artful without even trying.

Randomly placed on a large tarp bin. Beautiful.
Poetic.
You can almost hear the vague humming of its notes.

Family portrait - with bird in flight. Score.

Gorgeous mirrors that could, possibly, each reflect a different reality.

Just as curious as the rest of us.
The Bling says it all.

See you July 3rd!

Kitchen Curiosity: Strawberry Cupcakes with Fresh Berry Frosting

2011-06-11T22:23:00.001-07:00

Something happened on the way to motherhood. Instinct kicked in and I'm suddenly in the throes of an almost primal hankering for domestic competence - to bake (among other things).

** Dukan Dieters Beware: Proceed with caution. Sugar and carbs ahead - This was a MAJOR cheat day. **

All for fun, folks.

It’s almost surreal, like walking through the woods and having Disney’s forest friends crawl out of the bushes and break into song; all while two bluebirds rush down from a leafy branch to wrap an apron around my waist and tie it off with a perfectly shaped bow.

Cue orchestral soundtrack.

You must know that before I moved to the Bay Area from Manila, I had no idea how to make rice - on a rice cooker. Not only did I have to re-learn a few things, I had to learn kitchen and household basics and how to whip up meals with what we had in the fridge. The first few months was a crash course on homemaking.

Now that cooking a pretty decent meal is somewhat second nature to me, I figured it’s time to venture out into the unknown, to challenge myself. Besides, much practice is needed for years of bake sales and birthday parties, school projects and sleepovers, but more importantly - to satisfy an immediate craving.

A few weeks ago a good friend had brought homemade strawberry cupcakes and it was incredibly tasty and fresh that I couldn’t stop thinking about it. She’s had years of experience (like her entire life) and I, on the other hand, the hungry novice had to look up how to sift flour without a proper sifter. The depth of my baking experience was limited to pasta, a box or two of brownies and tollhouse cookies. On second thought the cookies probably shouldn’t be counted.

I suppose I could have made it with store bought cake-mix but the invariable challenge of a completely fresh, home-made cupcake made it all the more appealing. I googled strawberry cupcakes and found this recipe: I fortuitously had everything in my pantry. But then again it’s probably because fresh = simple ingredients.

CUPCAKE:

1/3 cup fresh pureed strawberries

1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour, sifted

1 teaspoon baking powder

1/4 teaspoon coarse salt

1/4 cup whole milk, room temperature (I only had fat free milk so that’s what I used)

1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, room temperature

1 cup sugar

1 large egg, room temperature

2 large egg whites, room temperature

FROSTING

1/2 cup fresh strawberries pureed

1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, firm and slightly cold

Pinch of coarse salt

3 1/2 cups confectioners' sugar, sifted

1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

You can find the complete recipe HERE.

And so after Mandarin was fed, changed and strapped in her high chair, I rocked out to our nineties playlist and my hand mixer and I went to work. The cake was simple enough, a little bit of elbow grease using a hand mixer, but with fruitful results. The recipe’s cupcake yield was for a dozen but somehow I ended up with 6 mini cupcakes. Not quite sure how that happened because my muffin tins were almost full.

Improvised sugar sifter. Score.

Ready to bake!

The frosting recipe only called for three tablespoons of fresh strawberry puree. Three tablespoons!? Three tablespoons is hardly enough, so I tipped my measuring cup and let the berry goodness swirl into ribbons of strawberry delight.

Sweet Berry Goodness.

Hello Lover.

How you like me now.

This may just be the beginning of a beautiful friendship. I mean, they weren’t perfect of course. They tasted pretty good, possibly less sweet next time around. The frosting could’ve been smoother; still I was incredibly proud I created these lovelies with essentially flour, sugar and strawberries. All while my little helper cheered me on.

Happy Weekend!

Blue Fish, Pink Bird, Yellow Star.

2011-06-04T21:48:00.000-07:00

Mandarin’s developmental milestones are on a roll. Her most recent being standing up and a real crawl. It’s official! No longer the zombie drag of leg and foot or the seal belly flop. Today, I watched her crawl and move around her play mat on all fours. This of course only means one thing. I need to move my eyes to the back of my head because as soon as I turn around she’s going to jet across the living room and live out the awful scenarios in my head. Like when I turned my back for literally FIVE seconds and suddenly she’s standing up in her high chair. I’ll take that heart attack right now please.

There are a million things that can go wrong and as much as we’d like to build a safety bubble around our children, they will somehow still manage to find a way to hurt themselves. Accidentally. Take ME for example. As much as my parents wanted to protect me, I managed to fracture my left elbow, faint publicly and dislocate my knee. All before I was 18 and none of which involved sports or school. The first while standing on one of those office chairs with wheels, using it as a rolling ladder to get from one end of the shelf to the other while sipping on a juice box. Real smart. The second: dehydration while attending a Pearl Jam concert and the other, well, it was at a Foo Fighters, Sonic Youth, and Beastie Boys concert. Mosh Pit. Another story for another time.

Given the confines of a slated sterile area; a blanket, a mat, an imaginary line where we figuratively draw and fence out the dirty from the clean, why does she still manage to find the laptop cord that I’ve piped along the couch cushions for stealth reasons? I get paranoid that if she gets a hold of it and follows where it leads to her fingers will discover the socket. Like leaving a trail of crumbs. Her attention to indiscriminate things amazes me. The single button on her shirt, any kind of tag, the remote control, the logo on Daddy’s shoe. Her curiosity is entertaining. For now (not when she turns 15!).

And the blue fish, pink bird and yellow star? The point is that she knows what they are. They’re part of a toy that she jiggles around through the day, and there have been a number of times on separate occasions that she’s pointed them out to me when asked where this and that is.

My nine month old. Such great heights.

She is exactly as old as the length of time I carried her through horrific heartburns, backaches, stretch marks, swollen feet and the magical trimesters of feeling my own child grow and stretch and kick - from the inside. Now that she’s here with me, I am drawn to the details ( just like she is ) the delicate curl of her lashes, the lingering sweetness of peach-mango snacks in her palms and how her big toe reminds me of a blueberry. There are many days when I feel lost in the cycles of rinse and repeat and the forecast of dark clouds and sunny breaks and the rest of the stay-at-home hackneyed presets.

Thanks for the photo, Ninang D and Uncle P!

Tonight I find myself watching her make a beeline for the remote control in bed and I know that right this moment, this is where I’m supposed to be.

Oh, The Backyard.

2011-05-19T16:53:00.001-07:00

The neglect of our backyard has once again led to a willful microcosm of blooms and wilderness. Weeds are prime examples of survivors belting it out at the bottom of the food chain and being heard - mind you - with such emphatic discord. Yet in the minutia of things, they are sights to behold up close. There is a note of innate beauty and tenderness in its organic hankering of mass destruction. They are delicate and harsh, stubborn and unforgiving, let’s not forget: a sore sight to behold.

The weeds per se aren’t entirely to blame for our poorly executed backyard. Seasons shifted, lemons grew and roses bloomed all with just the nurturing hands of nature, fertilized and nourished by my neglect. And I say this without remorse. I simply shrugged my shoulders and went “hmph!” oh well.

And because I have no control over the wildlife in our backyard (in my attempt to liven up the vibe of our borrowed 80's house) we’ve adopted a Peace Lily, which I admittedly had no idea was called that because as far as the grocery tag goes what we have is a $9.00 Spathiphyllum. It caught my attention because it was vibrant and verdant, the perfect size for the cobalt blue pot I bought for $5.00 months ago, and because it undeniably bore a resemblance to Vulcan ears, that we simply couldn’t help but name (him), Spock.

Spock, the Peace Lily meet...the internet.

And Spock's distant cousin, Gene.

The fact that I had to Google How to take care of a Peace Lily plant means: A. I have no idea what I’m doing. B. I am still capable of killing the most house friendly plant there is. C. It turns out I didn’t inherit a single green gene from my grandmother, the plant whisperer. She can pull a Moses make a dead twig come to life.

Nonetheless, I found it to be the perfect opportunity to start bringing in some flowers inside our house and while on a creative spell somehow managed to use a bottle of Sweet Basil Pasta sauce to and a bit of old gingham fabric from Mandarin’s blanket as a shabby chic vase. These flowers take such little space in the home but makes all the difference. They bring an air of renewing energy with a hint of nostalgia.

No matter how bad a day must seem, the roses are a dependable bed to fall on. Their unkempt nature only adds to the charm, and glancing at them once in awhile makes a foggy day look ever so hopeful.

And the weeds...

So delicate.

Never mind the weeds.

As long as they don’t completely take over. Either way, they’re poignant reminders that there too is something wild and free quietly thriving in the shadows of the most organized facets of our routine-laden lives.

Motherhood...

2011-05-14T00:21:00.000-07:00

Looks like I missed the obligatory Mother’s Day post. No great epiphanies to share from dawn’s breaking to dusk’s closing except that I really do value my mother a hundred fold, now that I’ve become one myself. But then everyday would be THE day to know this. Nonetheless, Mother’s Day merits some form of appreciative gesture; a phone call, a Facebook shout out, cheesy Hallmark card, or an iTunes gift card. It’s during these days that make it difficult to be 7,764 miles away from your mother when all you want to give her - to express your gratitude for giving you life, loving you and raising you - is a hug. It doesn’t help that she’s resistant to the internet either. So much for Skype. Or email.

So. What is it like to be a new mother?

Tiring. Rewarding. Often times I feel like I’m running on instinct and is probably the most that I’ve trusted myself; my body, my mind, and what I am capable of handling. All it takes is a smile (like I always say) but more often than not Mandarin sticks her tongue out on the corner of her mouth and I’m done. My-sappy-heart-is-melting - done. Sooner or later we all discover these soft spots; the twinkle in her eye, that naughty smirk...nothing like a dose of silliness to tug at those heartstrings.

Frustrating: when I feel like I can’t get it right. The laundry’s piled up, dishes unwashed, meals to be cooked, toys on the floor, rooms to clean, vacuum and swiffer through. It can get chaotic, but when all things are lined up and everything is in harmony, well, let’s just say I will dance with the spunk of a flash mob in Grand Central station when I’m happy.

Sentimental and weepy. Everyday.

Gratifying. Truth be told, there is a sense of pride knowing that you’re raising your daughter the best possible way you can. And loving her with as much love as your heart can fill.

The quiet and poignant ripples of inexplicable JOY.

Pocket Review: Le Petit Reve

2011-05-05T11:53:00.000-07:00

When a package you’ve been waiting for finally arrives, you don’t wait and find a pair of scissors, a knife, or anything resembling a sharp object to rip that bag open. Fingers, teeth, the corner of your remote control - anything will do. That’s the wonderful thing about packages that arrive at your doorstep; they can’t be judged based on how they look, because more often than not they look bruised, limp, and left-for-dead like it got into a fight - and lost.

The item in mind here is a blanket for Mandarin. A custom made quilt with vintage floral fabric, white eyelet ruffles held together with organic buttery soft fleece. Now, the imminent cliche that drops in this sentence : it is what is inside that counts. Because the filthy plastic bag that arrived that afternoon opened up to reveal a lovely boutique-style gift, wrapped in Japanese tissue and tied together with pink gingham fabric. Even lovelier was the blanket itself. Perfectly quilted with squares of dainty pink rosebuds, the softest vintage chenille and flannel, the muted colors of the roses - all pulled together with delicate pink lace; I thought twice before unraveling it because it was so pretty.

We are in L♥VE!

The shop, Le Petit Reve = The Little Dream with a BIG heart. ♥

Thank you Selena, seamstress extraordinaire!

Where It's At

2011-05-03T18:57:00.001-07:00

Here is where it’s at.

The leak from the bathroom on the top floor to the guest bathroom has gotten worse. Much worse. There are soaked towels laid out on the tile and the dripping sound of water instead providing Zen calm, has stained the general surrounding area with thoughts of ancient torture techniques. Surely back in the day someone must have gone mad just hearing one drip after another.

While on the thoughts of torture, that’s what Mandarin’s face looked like as I gave her a spoonful of pureed zucchini. She gagged and shot me a horrified look reminiscent of green beans and pursed her lips and held up a closed for business sign. How can she hate zucchini!? I can eat their healthy goodness everyday and now the batches I made for her either I will have to eat like an 8 month old - or the kitchen grinder will. Even the zucchini-carrot purees I made have gone to waste. She loves carrots on its own, I thought it would have been a good mix.

Last night whilst reading Is your Mama a Lama before bed, she threw up everything she ate for dinner; what seemed to be a whole jar of Earth’s Best carrot tomato puree and her 6 oz bottle of milk. All over me, my PJ’s, her book, the WHITE duvet, our pillows and my computer.

Yessssss. This calls the one defining photograph that speaks across generations and a wide spectrum of emotion:

Here’s hoping the rest of the week goes smoothly!

Wednesday

2011-04-28T23:23:00.000-07:00

Obviously meant as yesterday’s post, but you know how it is...

Wednesdays, I say, are good days to reflect on the weekend that passed and the weekend there is to look forward to. What’s gone down and what’s up and coming. It is the threshold of the week where you walk way from one It’s a mid-week pause from work or in my case as with the case of many mothers out there fully back in the throes of stay-at-home stupors, neglected domestic duties and mid-afternoon snuggles in bed. These are the peaks and valleys we live in, and somewhere a surprise waits in suspense only in its own knowing, giving our days something special, however small or seemingly insignificant it may be. Ripples in a pond. How these small things affect us.

Everyday, our Mandarin grows; a world of possibilities in her fingertips.

Easter weekend was abundant with Spring energy for Mandarin’s first egg hunt! A day with friends and family, the park we landed was verdant with perfectly trimmed grass, pruned bushes, and gorgeous trees. We had registered weeks in advance, and by the number of families and children there it was no surprise that the event was sold out. They had zones for the egg hunts, though there wasn’t much hunting to be done.

1. It was an open area.

2. The eggs were not hidden, but rather scattered about.

3. I suppose you could say they were free-range eggs.

4. We were late and the only eggs left were half opened colored eggs, looted for it’s candy.

It was like a mine of empty, albeit colorful egg (plastic) shells. Nonetheless, it’s not like Mandarin can run around just yet so we zipped her around in her toddler seat enjoying the view of her cousin and two of her friends.

The Curious Kitty...

Who eventually got hungry...

Needed a break from the hunt.

Our lovely girls , all just two weeks apart!! No there wasn’t a pregnancy pact, it wasn’t planned.

Someone mentioned that she looked like a gift with her bows. And what a special gift she is indeed.

Tuesday's trip to Golden Gate Park turned out to be one of those unplanned perfectly beautiful days.

While at the park we indulged in some well needed afternoon sunshine and with it a few thoughts of when and where we will finally be able to own our first home. We spoke of deal breakers like short driveways, dreams and ruminations of homey kitchens, and anthropologie linens, and an entire room for Mandarin and a bedroom with enough space for both hubby and I - and of course the Daffodil Free-arm Sunbrella from the Crate and Barrel catalogue for the patio.

$800 for an umbrella? Seriously?

It makes me feel hopeful to dream yet similarly, saddened that we cannot financially afford one just yet. Then there is the challenge of unemployment, the threat of bills and groceries. And now with a growing 8-month old, the palpable fear that we cannot provide the best for our daughter. Because isn’t that all we parents want? The best for our children, without compromise.

And so I nudge myself and bring to mind the mantra that I’ve openly allowed to flow within my consciousness: Savor the small. It is not easy to find contentment in the mundane cycles of of weeks and days and in spite of our struggles we are happy.

Some days it takes a trip out of the house, say --- to a park. A picnic. A quick stroll to get some fresh air.

but on most days we don't let emotions take the best of us

on most days, all it takes is a smile.

The happiness of life is made up of minute fractions -- the little soon forgotten charities of a kiss or smile, a kind look, a heartfelt compliment, and the countless infinitesimal of pleasurable and genial feeling.”

- Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Full on Spring

2011-04-22T22:59:00.000-07:00

Spring has made its way to our doorstep. When I walked out this morning to check the mail the Maple tree that had been bare (except for that last brown leaf that hung on for dear life) now bourgeoned with delicate light green leaves; tiny hands fluttering in the wind greeting the sun.

And so goes the wardrobe, clothes, make-up, accessories and all the necessary ducks in tow; thick clothes tucked into corners of the closest, boots kicked back, sandals and wedges surface up front along with all the pastel shades that I have recently, very recently, become friends with.

Betsey Johnson. Homemade baby clips. Chatterbox and Viva Glam V. Cath Kidston. YUM.

Exactly one year ago today, I was in my second trimester recovering from the throes of hormone shifts, unexplainable cravings, and superhero senses. I distinctly remember looking out the window and being awed by so much roses that seemingly grew out of nowhere. Our backyard, an otherwise drab oasis of cement, weeds, spiderwebs, and two stalks of the most stubborn persimmon trees that refuse to grow and bear fruit, comes alive with the surprise of color, complements of Spring. What a sight to behold considering we don’t pay much attention to it. Such happiness in its blooms; nothing short of a message of renewal.

I was never a big fan of roses, until Rachel Ashwell made them chic and shabby- but even then - years ago I was in denial of a side of me that was so incredibly florid and feminine. My pregnancy was a culmination of all things maternal, effeminate and pretty. The floodgates opened the day I cut those roses, arranged them with glee in an old blue and white pitcher, and placed it in the foyer so it can greet me every time I go downstairs. I was forever changed, my daughter had given me the gift of insight.

Our roses pink, red, yellow, and plum- wild yet unperturbed, a revelation in an otherwise drab backyard. They are reminders of nature’s renewing force within and all around me. Today, the buds rest quietly like hands in prayer pointing to the heavens, sleeping beauties waiting for the kiss of Spring. It’s no that they’re referred to as Ovoids the buds, egg shaped, is probably the best symbol of new beginnings. I can’t help but feel that I would have come full circle when I take the blooms back in the house as I did exactly one year ago.

Easter too, is a two days away. Another chance to celebrate, as evidenced by the sweetly colored chocolates in grocery isle, the abounding stacks of eggs, and migration of a certain bird specie:

And their gruesome fate...

There is rabbit food too, of course.

We can feel new as we purge our closets and our spirits of its clutter to make room for all the good things the year has to bless us with. And suddenly we feel much lighter...

and smile wider

My sweet penguin...

laugh louder

Thank God for Blackberries to capture moments on a whim

we savor the small things like sunshine after a week of rain, or tiny green leaves, or the fact the tiny human you are lovingly raising is saying "Dada" and "Mama" even if she doesn't know what it means just yet. And so we switch gears and move forward with optimism on overdrive for all the good things the year has yet to give, with an open heart and a spring in our steps.

Baby Food Basics

2011-04-05T13:47:00.000-07:00

I just recently started making homemade baby food after about a month of giving Mandarin Stage One Gerber food cups. Oh and if you’re wondering who Mandarin is...for the purpose of this blog and to protect those concerned we shall here forth refer to my daughter as such. Also because her cheeks look like she stuffed two cuties - oranges - in them. Love.

Check out these delectable Cuties.

Orange Cuties

Back to baby food.

Round 1: Green Beans. The first puree of fresh green beans did not turn out the way I expected it to. I didn’t use enough water and the puree wasn’t smooth enough, and as I fed it to her, I found that there were fibers and tiny bits of beans still floated about. Choking hazard! Mandarin still ate it nonetheless, but gagged all the way through as I sifted through the puree, taking out all “solid” looking things. I figured she wasn’t a fan of green beens, because the first time I gave it to her from a Gerber cup, not only did she gag, she got the “ewww” shivers, gagged deeply, and shot me a horrified look as if to say “what the frak is this!?”

And yes. That was a Battlestar reference.

The second batch of green beans; I made with a bit more water ( used the water that steamed the beans ) and blended on high puree for a little over a minute. Of course this would depend on how much beans you’re making. I made about a cup of chopped beans (ends trimmed) which yielded four 2 oz cups. This time around she was more receptive to the texture - and the taste. No more gagging!

Pureed Green Beans: They pop out easily from the silicone mold. Store in another container so you can make more.

Reading up on baby eating solids led me to the information that starchy fruits and vegetables like bananas and sweet potatoes can further contribute to constipation. The health benefits of course still outweigh the consequence of constipation so I make sure to give her MORE fiber in beans and pears and mix it up with other veggies. Having breastfed her for seven months (and still going) her body needs to get used to the consistency of solid food, and though it make take some time, a pasty consistency to her B-movements is nothing short of an A+ for me!

Round 2: Pears. High in Fiber and easily digestible. I bought a whole bag of it and discovered that 2 whole pears yield five 2 oz cups. Other than a tablespoon of water to help cook the pears, nothing else is added to the puree. Straight off the saucepan to the blender on high, it took less than a minute for the pears to puree into a smooth treat. At first she gagged, as with most food that is introduced to her. But our little Mandarin made friends with Pear in no time, and now, next to carrots may just well be her favorite food. I thought the pears tasted fabulous too and will soon make frozen PearPops for hubby and myself. A good and healthy snack in lieu of Haagen Daz bars. (You reading this, Mom?)

Round 3: Carrots. What more can I say...she loves them!

Cut and steam...About 1 cup of chopped carrots with 1/3 cup of water yields 61/2 oz of puree.

Puree!!!!

What I find amazing though is that homemade food is at least three shades strikingly brighter than store bought food! Makes you wonder what’s in those jars and cups - even it it only states green beans and water. Our pediatrician did say that nutrition wise they’re all the same, but somehow one just can’t help and think about the additives in there. I’m no baby food purist. This doesn’t mean that I think store bought food is any less better nutritionally than homemade other than obvious reasons. In fact nothing beats the convenience of a vacuum sealed pack and as long as you don’t open it you can carry it around like a protein bar to immediately feed a hungry baby . Homemade food is admittedly cheaper, greener (no plastic or glass jars to deal with) and if you have half an hour a week, you can make and freeze enough food for that entire week.

It’s a matter of choice and opinion much like breastfeeding and formula. There will always be someone who’ll tell you that one is better than the other; the way I see it, balance is key. Homemade food when you’re home, store bought when you’re out. Why not right? Whatever works. Only a mother would know what is best for her child, and whatever choices any mother makes - well - at some point we all channel our mother and pull out a stern because I said so. The bottom line is even if you're new to motherhood, trust your instincts. You really do know what you're doing even if you think you don’t.

Sew Be It.

2011-03-16T23:34:00.000-07:00

And sew it begins. Clueless, I walked into Joann Fabrics yesterday to find some backing material, embroidery floss, some pins and needles for the QUILT undertaking I’ve set my heart on doing. I left the store with everything on my list coupled with knots in my gut for the mission on hand.

Fabric of choice for the quilt's back part

How do they do it? Those amazing DIY women who make crafting seem so easy, and still manage to sneak in a gorgeous all-telling photograph of each and every step. Probably all second nature to them for sure, but I am positive that it can be learned given the proper motivation.

The sewing machine used to be the best Lola (grandmother) appendage. Just right in there with thick glasses, a perm, floral dusters, Lola kisses, and the odd smelling perfume with the viscosity of glue. Growing up, only grandmothers sat behind them yet these days either I’ve rapidly aged in my thirties or the prospect of getting behind this daunting machine has become more of a creative outlet. The sewing machine is now like that mystery girl you bump into at a Radiohead concert with the Anthropologie scarf and the feather earrings that you want to be friends with. You know you have things in common but you don’t know where to start the conversation.

My grandmother is a grand master of the sewing craft. She can make everything from table linens to curtains to pillows, so there must be a tiny speck of genetic DNA that made its way into my cup of capabilities.

Still.

Out of the box It smelled like musty cinnamon. Is there even such a thing? I know I’m supposed to wash it, but given that the listing mentioned that it’s twenty years older than me, I can’t just throw it in the wash and bleach the antiquated dust out of it. Must handle with love.

Yardage, batting, french knots, binding, yo-yo’s, cutaways, feed sacks, tacking, - these are all jargon to me. Give me iambic pentameters and villanelles, oxymorons and synecdoche and I can have a conversation with you. At this point, I am clueless and yet hopeful to the possibilities that stand before me in this crafting threshold. It only takes one step to walk through.

So. What to do after the quilt top you've purchased arrives?

Say, HI.

Hello there.

I can already tell that we’re going to have a long and lasting friendship.

One. Two. Three Things

2011-03-15T00:19:00.000-07:00

1. A Road Trip. 2. What was I thinking!? 3. Dada!

ONE

Last weekend at Lake Tahoe was... interesting to say the least. It had been planned months in advance and between the chaos of shopping for fleece buntings for the baby, waterproof jackets (which of course turned out to be too big) and gloves, hats, and thick puffy coats to be snow-ready, we were thrilled for our first family road trip!

The drive to Tahoe was idyllic. It was a sunny drive; three cars, three families (with three more on the way but later in the afternoon) we had our infinite playlists ready for hours and hours of car-eoke. That’s right. I sing in the car. Some people sing in showers. I don’t - because I sing in cars. Hubby knows this very well. Meanwhile, driving was smooth and our little cubbie was warm and sleepy in her car seat which I, of course, turned into a warm fleecy haven of pink and fluff.

The house was completely snowed in when we arrived. It was 5:00pm and the sun was slowly pulling down the shades of the day along with the temperature. So, imagine our disbelief when my friend and I walked through the house and discovered that there was NO HEAT. NO WATER - NO WAY. The pipes were frozen stiff, the master bedroom’s deck door was pushed open with a pile of snow, and there were freaky looking Raggedy-Ann dolls sitting on top of a quilt-topped twin bed in a room small enough to be called a closet.

The fireplace was the best place to set up camp with blankets and coats while the men shoveled snow and checked out other lodge options. So there we were, babies and mothers, a fat WTF question mark looming over our heads, and an argument with possibly the absolute worst property manager on the planet.

It was a long night. We were moved into a lodge hours later after a kind man was hired to shovel a path for us to walk through, which he labored over for nearly five hours. Some shuttling was involved back and forth from one house to another, SUV’s getting stuck on icy roads, disorientation in the darkness of night, freezing temperatures.

Outdoor freezers are awesome.

And to the management and company that leases out houses that have NO HEAT and NO WATER on a freezing winter night, knowing FULLY WELL that there will be THREE six month old infants and FOUR children there, as stated when the agreement was signed, is completely unacceptable. The fact that PG & E shut down both the gas and water THREE WEEKS (as evidenced by the statement they left) prior to our signed agreement, and two MONTHS prior to our arrival tells us that there are seriously some legal issues that need to be resolved.

We pretty much had three houses in three days. The first had no heat. No water. Frozen pipes. The second had one bathroom - for fifteen people. The third had the heat locked into place, nosebleeds ensued. The weekend turned out to be a piece of thread sticking out from a new sweater that you pull and unravels into a mess of threads and a new sweater with a new hole.

Oh, but there was snow. and lots of it. Falling snow will always be magical, even more so when they land your daughter’s lashes - and it makes her smile. It made it all worthwhile.

TWO

The quilt search is over! Yes! But what was i thinking when I bought a quilt top!?

A quilt top means (oh my) I HAVE TO FINISH IT. It’s not a quilt until it’s quilted. I have never sewed anything to save my life. Ok, that’s a lie. ONCE in high school. Potholders, I think. But that was years ago and this is a project that I have to finish just in time for spring flings with parks and other forms of recreation. Nevertheless, the colors are gorgeous, the vintage fabric lovingly sewed together for the perfect mix of organized chaos, and the blue stripes offer a unique flair of the French countryside. Can one fall in love with fabric?

Certainly.

THREE

She said Dada!! Is it too early? Probably not. Whether or not she knows what she’s saying, she’s let the word loose morning, noon, and night ever since consonants and vowels started rolling around in her tongue.

Oh these milestones. We are grateful for every single one of them.

SIX Months!

2011-03-08T15:15:00.000-08:00

Ten things I know for sure about our 6 month old LittleLove:

1. Eating solids is a challenge of patience, but once her attention is caught, she

will lap it up, even chase after the spoon!

2. She loves to stand and jump. On your knee. Your belly. Your foot. The

bouncer. Couch. Bed. Table. Floor.

3. She fishes for your attention and once she catches your eye, she flashes the

biggest smile!

4. My god, the girl loves to laugh - and what a voice!!!

5. Elephants, Giraffes and Bunnies are her favorite animals.

6. Anything she gets her hand on she will put in her mouth. Even your finger. or hair.

7. She’s a morning person and is never grumpy when she wakes up.

8. When she’s happy she opens her mouth (as if to eat you) and crinkles her nose.

9. Why she loves label tags on her toys, blankets, and clothes I will never know.

10. She loves the outdoors - trees and flowers and the wind in her face.

The past six months just flew out the window and there is so much to savor in the life of a growing child. It’s like driving and while most things are a blur because you’re fixated on the road, there are things that catch your eye. A red door, a victorian house, a flame tree in full bloom and hard as you try to take it all in you can’t just hit the brakes and stop. So you take a photograph with your mind’s eye and recreate that image in your mind, but unlike a real picture you can never have the exact image on hand.

I want to savor these little things. The milestones alone are incredible. Little things that are actually big things.

yummy yummy yummy I got love in my tummy

Now, her curious little hands love to touch and grab EVERYTHING. She’s discovered details, like buttons on her pants and (of all things) label tags. Holding a piece of paper with her fingers is amazing considering her hands, just a few months ago, didn’t even have the dexterity to pat a ball. Or to pull my hair. And to swat Daddy’s chin.

So many fleeting moments in a day like the unique complexity of bubbles that pop even before you can get to them. I have to keep reminding myself how important it is to savor the small.

Being with my daughter every single day since the day she was born, I would consider a privilege. I’m not going to lie and say that it’s all peachy. I’ve turned, quite literally into a human pacifier, there are areas of neglect around the house and there are breathless, whimpering days when a help me escapes my lips like a bat out of hell.

Our baby’s half a year old. What a privilege and a gift it is to watch her grow and play and discover the world around her.

And to the world. Just you wait. A smile and her bright eyes and you are forever changed.

What is Paradise but a Garden.

2011-03-01T14:08:00.000-08:00

Sunday at the park ( San Francisco Botanical Garden )was the perfect weekend local getaway. Just the three of us, walking through the arch of Magnolia trees with winding pathways that led to various continental cloud forests, ancient plant gardens, a waterfowl pond, and a great meadow and a redwood grove. It’s still too cold for a picnic by the pond with friends, family, and the curious waterfowl skimming the pond along with the rest of the wild and wondrous ecosystem that thrives in the park.

I’m feeling it. The spring fever of quilts and picnics. Sandwiches. Poetry. The wind, sun, and mild weather - so many afternoons to spend.

“In the Spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt” - Margaret Atwood.

And there were benches...everywhere, were you can sit and watch the sunlight move across gardens and groves. There is a familiar stillness in the park. Like when fog moves through the trees in a state of peace, it is a vision of calmness that resonates from the cloud forests to the inner garden of our quiet soul.

And though most (if not all) the benches in the park were placed in remembrance of lives that once were, they are undeniably inviting - to sit in solemnity and celebrate the life that continues to unfold before you; ever changing.

What is paradise but a garden!

It helps that every single plant, flower and tree had tags otherwise it would’ve just been “oooooh that pink- hanging- thing is soooo pretty” and “Puuuurple flowerrrrs!”

Our little Love, always fascinated by trees and flowers was quietly observing the beauty that surrounded her, a change from her usual afternoon babble - the language of trees that effortlessly lulled her to sleep.

The vast expanse of the park draws out the creative spirit in each and every one of us.

The annual flourish of Magnolias is a BIG event at the park! Ad and posters everywhere - how FABULOUS is that?! Only in San Francisco.

This is by far the most fascinating and largest botanical garden I’ve been to (can’t say I’ve been to much, really). Like I always say, the possibility of how much dynamism thrives in the park will surely be stunning, and when spring comes forward and everything is in bloom our bearings will be set back to the garden.

Magnolias bloom mid-winter and is a sure sign that Spring is a turn away.

And so...

The park beckons in Spring.

* * *

Let it be known that I am on the hunt for the perfect quilt. One that I can carry with me through the seasons. I want the organized chaos of printed fabrics squares preferably hand tied backed with a simple fabric that can withstand years of grass laying, sandy beaches, bedroom ruffles, drools, tugs, and hugs. Let’s not forget affordable.

Looking through the usual shops, I see a lot of vintage varieties - I think a prefer a new quilt with a bohemian look; perhaps in this case it’s best to start with something new and build new memories that will weave into the fabric itself rather than buy something that is actually vintage (albeit tempting as those that I’ve seen are gorgeous).

Well, If Man can shop globe, Mama can shop Ebay or Etsy. Game on.

Goodnight, Lullaby Lane...

2011-02-24T14:42:00.000-08:00

I am distraught to find out that after 64 years, Lullaby Lane, an independent shop here in the Bay Area has closed it’s doors to its patrons. The economy must have hit them hard - generally known as a shop that catered to less commercial baby things, more expensive things, pretty things.

I haven’t been here long enough to claim that it was a landmark of my childhood, however there still are strings being played on in the chord of nostalgia.

When I was pregnant last year my husband and I would take frequent trips there (apart from Target and Babies R Us) just to look around and see a wider variety of strollers, cribs, baby things we dreamed of and got excited about. I strolled around there up until my 9th month, dragging my swollen feet across the shop chatting it up with other expectant mothers, and rubbing my belly with the enkindled vibe of motherhood.

Fathers, boyfriends and significant others can usually be found nesting by the gliders and rockers, aghast over the $500 price tag. On Sale. But oh so comfy.

This is the little patch of memory I have with Lullaby Lane.

There were simply some things in there that cannot be found in other shops.

Goodnight Lullaby Lane. You will be missed.

http://lullabylane.com/

Zoo Day!

2011-02-18T14:36:00.000-08:00

I had intended to finish this post even before Valentine’s Day rolled in but then laundry and life got in the way and there were things that simply needed to be done.

Thursday, February 11th

It was oddly sunny the past few weeks, as if the Pacific was playing a winter prank on our western shores. Isn’t it winter!? I’m not complaining, really. Last Thursday was the perfect day to be outdoors and be with the company of friends - who also happen to be mothers too. All our girls just a mere two weeks apart! The Oakland Zoo was a logical choice for a sunny stroll. It wasn’t overwhelming and as big as the San Francisco Zoo, the vibe was clearly friendly - mostly kids and babies in strollers just like us.

Time for a sun bath. And that’s exactly what the Gator was doing. It looked so stoic - almost - ceramic and fake.

Stroller dates are always fun - check out my friend’s red double-duty stroller on the right.

The cherry blossoms are now in full swing, in bloom and a sure sign that Spring is peeking around the corner (though it feels like it now).

The girls, still too young to notice the wildlife that surrounds them seemed observant, nonetheless. The nippy wind brushed up against their plump and blushed cheeks as we strolled through the hilly pathways. They may have missed the baboon tearing up an empty Doritos bag (It’s terribly irresponsible - what people leave behind) but the yellow blooms that hung overhead were surely noticed and the loud cawing of the blue and yellow (well) Macaws, heard.

Sophie Le Giraffe had a day out too - and met some of her relatives!

My Loveylove in deep contemplation of which animal is her favorite. Giraffe or Elephant. Tough choices.

Today...

A forecast of winter storms, rain and hail and thunder is set to slam against our Bay Area shores, one system after another.Yet, in spite of this extreme weather, there is always room for enjoyment. Like dessert. The sweetness of moments in days whether it rains or shines is always welcome. This time around instead of the sun in our face we have cuddles in the sheets as the wild seasonal wind ticks of the last brown maple leaf from it’s hold. And when 8:00am rolls around with a thunderstorm and gray skies and the dibble-dopp of rain tapping against the windowpane, we are lulled back to sleep in the comfort of snuggles, and blankets of warmth. Nothing more soothing than a rainy morning and a slow start to a day full of possibilities.

Love is All You Need

2011-02-15T21:09:00.000-08:00

A year ago, Love meant something very different for me. We all know that there are varying degrees of love - for your husband, best friend, your parents, siblings, cousins, your children. Being a mother, I’ve realized that it is easy to fall prey to cliches because there is absolute truth in them. Like this one: I never knew a deeper form of love until I met my daughter. Yes it is unconditional. Yes it is the kind that will make you move mountains (there goes another one). But how can anyone not fall in love with a child that smiles with utmost brightness to greet you in the morning. She is the face of joy and the breath of bliss.

Yesterday when I came home, Hubby had red heart balloons for our LoveyLove and red roses on the table for me. The house smelled incredibly good when we walked in because he cooked and prepared an exceptional meal for the both of us (well, I suppose it’s for the three of us since it’ll end up in my breast milk anyway): Fillet Mignon with Asparagus spears wrapped in cream cheese and prosciutto and a side serving of herb roasted potatoes. Sheer Joy. Dessert was leftover coffee jello I made a week ago and a scoop of Vanilla Bean Ice Cream. Love is savory and sweet and is in the simplest of gestures that make for huge family memories.